


melting magnets

by interstel (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Banter, M/M, Scientist Tsukishima, Smut, and they do in fact eat a frog offscreen on purpose, but maybe we do edit several times, engineer Kuroo, no beta we die like men, not in a weird way but in a culinary experience way, this is some set up and then about 3000 words of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27754954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/interstel
Summary: “An interesting choice?” Kuroo challenged, tilting his chin toward his shoulder so Tsukishima could hear him better. “Why? Do you regularly eat stuff more out-there than a literal, actual frog?”“I dunno. When I was bored as a kid, I’d do dumb experiments with food in my parents’ kitchen. Noodles cooked in Gatorade, preserving egg yolks, calculating the speed of light with marshmallows in the microwave, that kind of thing.”“And you ATE your experimental results?”“If they weren’t horrible, sometimes. Gatorade soba was better than I expected.”“God, I can’t believe you’ve always been this weird.”---Kuroo picks up Tsukishima from the lab for a dinner date. Things get spicy.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 2
Kudos: 72





	melting magnets

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Magnets by Disclosure ft. Lorde](https://youtu.be/WfXsH_RDcK4). Setting based on a typical large research university in the US.

There was a lot of traffic for a Tuesday night.

Kuroo thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his car. He’d hoped to have already arrived by now – or, rather, by ten minutes ago, judging by the slightly-fast clock on the dashboard – but it seemed the combination of rush hour and heavy rain was making everyone drive really stupid. He grumbled as the cars ahead of him crawled forward, left knee bouncing out of time; this drive, which according to the internet should have taken a maximum of eight minutes, was now stretching to twice that. If the weather were different, or perhaps if he were a more reckless driver, he would have sent an apologetic text about his timing, but the cost-benefit analysis of a quick _sry gonna be a lil late_ text was not quite working out in its favor.

(Regardless, he tailgated a little bit. Just on the last hundred meters or so before his turn. It was fine! Probably!)

At long last Kuroo stopped in front of the university physics building. The lone figure silhouetted in the illuminated stairwell pushed the glass door open as he arrived, setting into a quick jog toward the car. Kuroo hastily unlocked the passenger side door.

“Hey,” said Tsukishima as he opened the door and then yanked it closed behind him, sending water droplets flying over to the driver’s side. “Got rained on. Sorry about your interior.”

Kuroo grinned. Tsukishima looked funny with his knees bent up so far to fit in the passenger seat, trying to maneuver to reach the seatbelt. “You can push the seat back, you know. The lever is underneath. Wouldn’t want your poor, oversized joints to age prematurely.”

Tsukishima locked eyes with Kuroo and gave him a flat stare as he reached down to push the seat back.

“Better?” Kuroo asked cheekily. He put the car into drive and set about turning back onto the main thoroughfare through downtown.

“I guess.” Tsukishima turned to look out the windshield. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, sorry. Traffic sucks, nobody knows how to drive in the rain here. I’ll buy your dinner tonight if that makes up for it.”

Tsukishima shrugged. “Sure.”

“Great. Gotta demonstrate that I know how to be a gentleman. Wouldn’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

The glare that Kuroo received made him laugh out loud. He winked saucily in return and laughed harder at the flush of irritation on Tsukishima’s face. Dinner was going to be fun.

\---

Graduate school house parties, Kuroo found, were a different breed than undergraduate house parties. Over his first two years at the university, he attended enough of them to gather what he thought was probably a representative dataset. Grad students, older and presumably more responsible, didn’t stay out as late or get as rowdy as the undergrads he’d partied with in college, but they were still willing to let loose – the thankless labors of teaching and researching for a pittance inspired a certain kind of desperation you just didn’t find with younger students. And there was a lot more interesting conversation, since everyone was so invested in their subfields of research.

(The grad students also had a higher standard for the quality of alcohol they were willing to consume. Midway through first semester, he had to start putting his bottom-shelf liquor through a water filter to get anyone besides him and Bokuto to drink it.)

Kuroo welcomed the differences. He thought there were only so many times you could wake up on someone else’s front lawn with a blazing headache, or have the same conversation with five different overenthusiastic drunk people in one night, before you got sick of the whole experience.

He made a point of engaging with the people who showed up only to nurse a beer in the corner. God knows he had enough experience drawing quiet and anxious people out of their shells – Kenma, who never showed up to parties even though lots of his computer science classmates asked about him, made the case in point. Plus, those were the conversations that ended up being the deepest and most interesting, usually: Kuroo didn’t have to contend with distractions from the other people in the room as much if his conversation partner wasn’t trying to interact with several groups at once.

So first semester of his third year, when he noticed a bespectacled blond stranger hovering alone in the kitchen at a research colleague’s housewarming party, he topped up his G&T and wandered over to introduce himself, as usual. Not as usual was that the stranger was taller than Kuroo. And very attractive. And fun to tease. Kuroo laid it on a little thick, flirted harder than he usually would, just to watch a blush creep over the face of his new friend, who tried to hide it by glaring and taking harried sips of his canned fruity mixed drink.

“You must have a pretty amazing brain to be doing a solar physics PhD, Tsukishima. Do you get to work with telescopes and other astronomy stuff?” The music wasn’t very loud but Kuroo still leaned in a little closer than necessary.

“My brain’s fine, I guess. I primarily work with data from two satellites,” Tsukishima Kei replied, fiddling with the tab on his drink can. “I don’t get to, like, control them or anything, but I get to look at all the pictures they take and I get a little bit of a say on what data they collect.”

“That’s so cool, Tsukishima, we don’t do stuff like that in mechanical engineering. Actually, wait, no – it’s the sun, so that’s so hot right?” Kuroo said, grinning.

"Lame joke.”

"Maybe so, but watching your expression is so worth it.”

Tsukishima scoffed. Kuroo grinned wider. He sensed an opportunity for a critical hit.

"You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

The can tab popped off in Tsukishima’s hands.

(In retrospect, Kuroo was surprised he got Tsukishima’s number at the end of the night. Even later, he was astounded that Tsukishima agreed to get coffee with him that week.)

\---

The restaurant was mostly empty by the time they arrived. Once they were both seated and dampening the fabric cushions on either side of their booth, Kuroo watched Tsukishima carefully unwrap his silverware from the red napkin encasing them to wipe the condensation off of his glasses. His fingers were long and more nimble than Kuroo expected. The backs of his hands looked very smooth in the dim overhead lighting.

“So,” Tsukishima started. Kuroo snapped his eyes back up to Tsukishima’s face. “This is a Szechuan restaurant. The menu is huge, but we can pare it down a little since we don’t have enough people for hot pot. And we can probably skip the American Chinese stuff.”

Kuroo chuckled. “It’s better when it’s a little shittier than what we’re going to get here, anyway.”

Tsukishima’s mouth lifted slightly at the corners. “True. And cheaper.”

“Remind me again your reasoning for picking this place as our second date?” Kuroo asked as he picked up the menu to flip through the laminated pages.

“You’d never been here. And they use Szechuan peppercorns in most of the food.”

“Right, and I told you that I’ve only had them a couple times before.” Kuroo paused to skim the appetizers. “Do you have strong food opinions? I just want to eat something I haven’t eaten before.”

“I’m not going to eat a whole lot, so if you’re not picky, it’s probably more economical to split a couple plates,” Tsukishima replied, and with the first hint of actual amusement on his face, “I haven’t tried the hibachi frog yet.”

Oh boy.

\---

On their coffee date, Tsukishima blushed three times and smiled twice. Kuroo counted each scrap of affection as a victory.

\---

“Man, I can’t believe we ate a _frog_ ,” Kuroo said as they stepped out of the restaurant. The rain had turned into a mist while they were inside. “It tasted like a chewy fish stick.”

“It certainly was an interesting choice on my part,” Tsukishima agreed, following behind Kuroo in the direction of the car.

“An interesting choice?” Kuroo challenged, tilting his chin toward his shoulder so Tsukishima could hear him better. “Why? Do you regularly eat stuff more out-there than a literal, actual frog?”

“I dunno. When I was bored as a kid, I’d do dumb experiments with food in my parents’ kitchen. Noodles cooked in Gatorade, preserving egg yolks, calculating the speed of light with marshmallows in the microwave, that kind of thing.”

“And you ATE your experimental results?”

“If they weren’t horrible, sometimes. Gatorade soba was better than I expected.”

“God, I can’t believe you’ve always been this weird.”

“Weird? You’re one to talk.”

Oh, right, like _Kuroo_ was the weird one of the two. Disregarding any childhood cooking incidents, who had just spent twenty-five minutes describing the specifications of the space telescope he was using for his research in obsessive detail? While rearranging the miscellaneous condiments on the table to “optimize the efficiency” of the table setting? Not Kuroo, that’s for sure. (Not that Kuroo minded – Tsukishima’s enthusiasm for all things science was actually very charming. He’d looked like he was enjoying himself for once when explaining all this stuff to Kuroo.) He turned all the way around to give Tsukishima a piece of his mind as they passed under a streetlight.

But the words never came out. Tsukishima had his hands clapsed behind his head - the mist-softened light cast dramatic shadows over his toned biceps, and the hem of his short-sleeved button-up had lifted just enough to expose a hint of flesh above the waistline of his jeans. There was a trail of light hair on the visible skin that disappeared beneath his clothing in both directions. Below that, his legs looked so _long_ and _lean_ \- and his whole body was so _lithe_ , as if he’d been specially engineered to appeal to Kuroo’s (heretofore unfulfilled) fantasy of being the shorter one.

Tsukishima coughed. To his horror, Kuroo realized that he’d stopped dead on the sidewalk, just steps from where the car was parked on the street. He was leering. So much for being a gentleman.

When Kuroo finally dragged his gaze back up to Tsukishima’s face, cheeks burning, he found a self-satisfied smirk instead of the annoyance he’d been expecting. Tsukishima’s eyes glinted gold in the diffuse light. Kuroo hadn’t noticed how pretty the color was in the dimness of the restaurant. And as Tsukishima tilted his chin up to look down toward Kuroo, the shadows on his face lengthened, sharpening his jaw and dramatizing the shape of his cheekbones. Kuroo’s heart began to hammer in his chest, and his upper body suddenly felt very warm.

“Drive me home?” Tsukishima asked, pausing a moment before sauntering toward Kuroo.

Kuroo racked his brain for anything he could do to regain control over the situation in the few seconds he had before not responding would get awkward. He settled on opening the passenger-side door with a theatrical flourish and a half-bow. “But of course! After you, my liege.”

Kuroo noted with some satisfaction the indignant expression that flitted across Tsukishima’s face. “God, you’re embarrassing.”

“All in a day’s work.” He continued to hold the door as Tsukishima folded his body into the car, and gently shut the it once both sinewy ( _stop ogling him, get it together, Kuroo_ ) legs were safely inside.

Once they were buckled and headed in the correct direction, Kuroo let his mind wander a bit. Tsukishima was describing some cutting-edge electromagnetic thingy used in his research that was fully beyond Kuroo’s current level of understanding of either space physics or electrical engineering, so he was pretty sure he wasn’t missing much anyway. He glanced over at Tsukishima and wondered what it would be like to run his hands through those blond curls, or pass his fingers over that slender neck. Or plant a trail of kisses over those toned thighs – Kuroo stopped that thought before it went any further. He would save it for when he wasn’t driving.

When Kuroo eventually tuned out of his daydreams and back into the real world, Tsukishima was informing him that his apartment was on the next block and he could just stop right in front of the building since there was street parking. Kuroo pulled over as instructed, put the car into park, and looked over to see Tsukishima already meeting his gaze.

“So, I have the apartment to myself right now. My roommate is out of town for a conference this week,” Tsukishima said with more confidence than Kuroo was expecting. “Would you like to come up for a drink?”

Kuroo was already turning the car off and pulling the keys out of the ignition. He turned again to send what he hoped was a sexy smirk at Tsukishima – his nerves were somehow destroying his usual assuredness – to see that Tsukishima was already wearing the same smug expression he’d sported outside the restaurant a few minutes earlier.

“I probably didn’t even need to ask, did I?” Tsukishima murmured. The bass in his voice was doing something to Kuroo’s bloodflow. “I saw how you looked at me earlier. Starving, even though we just ate.”

“Oh? Now who’s saying embarrassing stuff?”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Kuroo couldn’t. “Not my fault that you look like...that.”

“Hmm. Thought so.” Tsukishima reached out and took Kuroo’s hand in his own. He lifted it to his face and lightly pressed his lips to the knuckles without breaking eye contact.

Not having the upper hand (so to speak) in this situation was killing Kuroo. He felt like he was about to combust. When he finally managed to string together a sentence coherent enough to say aloud, he couldn’t keep the gravel out of his voice. “Why don’t we go upstairs so you can fix me a drink?”

Tsukishima’s lips curled up at the corners, more than usual. “Fine by me.”

It was several minutes of highly charged eye contact and deliberate brushes of knuckles and nearly crackling energy in the elevator before Tsukishima finally unlocked the front door to the apartment to let them both in. In the entryway, Tsukishima bent over to pull off his high-tops, exposing some of the skin on his back, and Kuroo couldn’t resist reaching out to slide his hand across Tsukishima’s spine. The skin was smooth, paler than Kuroo’s. Goosebumps rose up under his fingertips. Kuroo removed his hand for a moment to yank off his own shoes and had hardly returned to vertical before Tsukishima grabbed him around the waist.

Their lips met in the middle. It was as weird and awkward as any first kiss – Tsukishima’s mouth was a little too open, Kuroo’s movements little too fast, and they fumbled to find a compatible pressure and rhythm. Regardless, Kuroo had never been so turned on in his life. Somewhere between the car and the apartment door he abandoned the deliberate suppression of his sexier thoughts, and he had already become half-hard in the time since. He gasped into Tsukishima’s mouth when a thigh brushed over the front of his jeans, one hand grappling the buttons at the front of Tsukishima’s shirt, the other sneaking up Tsukishima’s neck to tug the hair at the crown of his head.

Tsukishima pulled back abruptly. Kuroo looked up, concerned, until he saw the hungry way Tsukishima’s eyes roved over his body. His t-shirt was askew, and Tsukishima leaned forward to graze his teeth over the exposed collarbone. Kuroo whined at the touch.

“Bedroom?” Tsukishima breathed over Kuroo’s neck.

“God, yes, please.” Kuroo was fairly certain he would burn up if he didn’t remove some clothing soon.

Tsukishima moved further into the apartment, flipping on lights as he went. He led Kuroo past the open kitchen/living area and opened a door at the far end. After ushering Kuroo in with a gentle touch to the small of his back, Tsukishima closed the door softly behind them.

“Nice,” Kuroo said, taking in the room around him. One wall of the bedroom was taken by a large sliding-glass door leading out to a balcony, high up enough to offer some nice city views. Another had some floating shelves that held books and what looked like fish fossils. Some quiet music started to play; Kuroo looked over to see Tsukishima placing his phone on the dresser near the door.

Tsukishima stepped forward to resume kissing Kuroo. He used one hand to hold the back of Kuroo’s head, while the other found its way under the hem of Kuroo’s t-shirt to settle on his hip. A warm tongue slipped across Kuroo’s bottom lip and Kuroo groaned. Tsukishima’s lips were slow, yet insistent; Kuroo felt hot all over, but it was still weird to have to tilt his head up instead of down. He liked the feeling of being engulfed but he wasn’t sure how long his neck could stay in its bent position without freezing there permanently.

Kuroo fisted his hands in the front of Tsukishima’s shirt and pulled him backwards without disengaging his lips. When the backs of Kuroo’s knees hit the bed behind him, he broke away to push Tsukishima down onto the mattress, remove his glasses to the bedside table, and swing a leg over those slim hips so Kuroo ended up hovering on all fours above Tsukishima.

“Before we go any further, I want to address a couple things,” Kuroo said. “Three, actually. First, I got tested recently and you don’t have anything to worry about from me. I tested negative for everything. Second, I’m vers, and if you’re kinky I switch. Third, although I’m vers, I wasn’t expecting to get busy tonight, so if we do any butt stuff I’m topping.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, face deliciously pink. “Get busy? Butt stuff? What are you, twelve?”

“Yeah, a twelve out of ten,” Kuroo snickered.

“You’re stupid.”

“Stupidly attracted to you, definitely.”

Tsukishima growled in irritation and pulled Kuroo down to kiss him, hard and wet. Kuroo sucked on his bottom lip in return, relishing the way Tsukishima’s fingers gripped the longer hair at the back of his head. He dropped to his elbows and gently slid his knees back until his pelvis connected with Tsukishima’s – he noted that there was a definite bulge other than his own pressed between them. Kuroo pulled his face back slightly, disconnecting their lips again.

“Is there anything you definitely don’t want to do?” he asked. Tsukishima’s eyes looked darker when his pupils were blown like this.

“Um. I’m also vers, but I don’t want to bottom tonight either. And I’ve tested negative for everything, just so you know.”

“All right, no problem. Anything else?”

Tsukishima chewed on his bottom lip a little bit. Kuroo watched his teeth press into the pink flesh. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.” Kuroo opened his mouth to pounce on the obvious joke, but Tsukishima’s hand clapped over it first. “I already know what you’re going to say, and you’re not funny.”

Kuroo shifted his weight onto one arm to grab at the hand covering his mouth. He pulled it just far enough away to wrap his lips around the slender pointer finger up to the first knuckle while also rubbing a slow circle with his hips over Tsukishima’s hard bulge. Tsukishima let out a choked moan. Kuroo switched to lapping on the middle finger, descending to the second knuckle. He worked his mouth back and forth down the finger – tried to time it with his grinding to make Tsukishima groan more.

Tsukishima fixed Kuroo with his smoldering stare again, mouth slightly open with his ragged breathing. “We got the introductions out of the way. Take your shirt off.”

Kuroo let the fingers in his mouth go with a wet pop. “Only if you do too.”

Soon they were both scrambling to stand up and yank fabric over their heads; Kuroo decided _fuck it, I’ll lose the jeans too_ , and made quick work of stripping his legs, and it was clear that Tsukishima had the same thought because he was also shucking his jeans as fast as possible. They collapsed back onto the bed in their boxers, facing each other in a tangle of limbs, groping desperately at whatever skin was near est . Tsukishima slotted his thigh in between Kuroo’s so they could rut against each other. Any restraint either of them had about the use of tongues or teeth moments before was cast aside - Kuroo hadn’t felt this animalistic in _yea_ _rs_ _._

Kuroo felt a hand travel up his thigh and still at his hip. He stopped kissing Tsukishima just long enough to gasp out a _yes, please, please touch me_ , and then Tsukishima was palming Kuroo’s cock over the thin cotton of his boxers. Every inch of skin on Kuroo’s body already felt like it was on the receiving end of an electrical discharge; the new sensation sent a shiver through his whole body. His toes curled. Tsukishima’s fingers rubbed teasing circles over the head of Kuroo’s cock through the fabric, and Kuroo couldn’t bring himself to care about the obvious wetness that those fingers were spreading with every stroke. Stiff boxers were a problem for Future Kuroo.

Kuroo broke away from the kissing again, breathing hard. “More. Please.”

“You get so polite when you’re turned on,” Tsukishima purred as he slipped his fingers under the elastic waistband of Kuroo’s boxers and started to slide them off. “Where was that when you were being a bully earlier?”

Kuroo lifted his hips to assist, hissing as the cool air hit his dick. “Fuck you.”

“If you insist.” Tsukishima guided one of Kuroo’s hands to the barely-restrained erection in his boxers before finally closing his fist around Kuroo.

The feeling of Tsukishima’s lazy first strokes down Kuroo’s shaft – slippery, where had the lube come from? – overwhelmed Kuroo enough that he forgot to come up with a snappy reply. And forgot there was a dick in his hand. Kuroo’s eyes fluttered shut and his head tilted back onto the pillow as he moaned long and low.

It felt like several minutes before his fingers closed reflexively around the stiff object that twitched in his hand. _Ah. Yes. Need to stop being a pillow princess._ Kuroo gathered his thoughts enough around the all-consuming pleasure to start rubbing Tsukishima’s cock. Struggling to focus his eyes a little, Kuroo looked down first at the girthy member outlined in his hand, giving the head an experimental squeeze, and then up to Tsukishima’s face.

Tsukishima was staring, pupils still enormous behind his half-open eyelids. As their eyes met, he rubbed his thumb just below the head of Kuroo’s cock, and Kuroo’s hips jerked forward.

“Fuck, Tsukishima,” Kuroo groaned, “if you keep doing that, you’re gonna – you’re gonna make me c-come before we get to – to whatever’s next.”

At some point Kuroo’s eyes must have shut again because he didn’t notice that Tsukishima had moved until he felt lips working their way up from his collarbone to his ear.

“What if I want to make you come?” Tsukishima breathed into Kuroo’s ear. His teeth grazed the lobe at the same time as his thumb returned from firm pumping to rub at the spot below the head of Kuroo’s cock, and Kuroo’s last shred of control over his body gave out.

“Fuck!” Kuroo cried out, hips flexing and cock pulsing as he came over Tsukishima’s hand. Tsukishima kept stroking him as Kuroo rode the crest of his orgasm – he fell back against the mattress and his thoughts were incoherent and fuzzy. He was panting and vaguely aware of a tissue passing over his rapidly oversensitizing dick when his consciousness started seeping back into his body.

“That looked intense,” murmured Tsukishima.

Kuroo blinked his eyes open, looked over at Tsukishima lounging next to him on the bed. Tsukishima was clearly still uncomfortably hard and at that sight, Kuroo finally had the sense to blush over coming apart so fully with a quick handjob. Like he was still a teenager. Embarrassing.

But he could at least redeem himself.

“Mmm, thank you,” Kuroo said as he rolled back up to a seated position, regaining control of his expression. “My turn. Can I go down on you?”

Any amount of lust that had left Tsukishima’s face in the last couple minutes of aftercare came roaring back twofold. “Please,” he rasped, and Kuroo grinned devilishly.

Kuroo slipped off the bed and reached out to tug on Tsukishima’s nearest leg until he was sitting up in a satisfactory position at the edge of the mattress. Kuroo sunk to his knees, running both hands up the thighs on either side of his body. He dipped his palms to the inner thighs to push Tsukishima’s legs further apart. Tsukishima’s breath audibly hitched.

“You have amazing legs,” Kuroo informed Tsukishima. “So long. You looked delicious in your jeans earlier. Even more so now, somehow.” His fingers skated back up to trail along the waistband where Tsukishima’s boxers met lean muscle. He slipped his thumbs under the elastic to trace the shape of the hipbones hidden underneath, leaned over to press a kiss inside of a knee. Tsukishima’s hands joined Kuroo’s at the waistband of his boxers to pull that last barrier down to his ankles and kick it away.

Kuroo drank in the sight of Tsukishima’s swollen cock. The head was a little shiny with precome, and Kuroo wanted it in his mouth immediately. But he held himself back, if only to tease Tsukishima a little longer.

Kuroo returned his mouth to the knee he’d kissed earlier. Pressed very soft kisses along Tsukishima’s inner thigh, not quite pulling away, so his breath spread in warm puffs and his lips slowly brushed across the sensitive skin all the way up. Kuroo observed at the top of his trajectory that Tsukishima’s hand on that side was gripping the edge of the mattress with perhaps more force than necessary. He smiled a little and moved his mouth to ghost over a hipbone, following the path he’d traced earlier, and then shifted to repeat the process on the other side – a little faster this time, maybe, and a little wetter.

His hands returned to rest on Tsukishima’s slender hips as he tipped his head back a little bit to look at Tsukishima’s face. Kuroo let his mouth slip into a hungry smile at the wide eyes and unrestrained want he found there.

“Are you ready?” he asked, already aware of the answer, as he brought his mouth to the height of the red, leaking head of Tsukishima’s twitching cock.

“Do you get off on torturing other people?” Tsukishima rebutted in a strained voice. “What the hell do you think?”

Kuroo pretended to throroughly consider the queries. “Hmm… we can definitely explore that first question later. If you want. As for the second… well….”

Maintaining eye contact, Kuroo slipped his tongue out to firmly lick along the spot Tsukishima had used to take him apart earlier. One of his hands moved to grip the base of Tsukishima’s shaft to hold it steady. Tsukishima’s mouth dropped open, like he meant to make a noise but it didn’t make it past his lips, and his knuckles turned white with the force of his grip on the mattress.

Kuroo stayed there for a little while longer, intermittently watching Tsukishima’s face as he teased the head of his erection with his tongue. Tsukishima started making some desperate whining noises that Kuroo hadn’t known he was capable of – they sent heat straight down into Kuroo’s abdomen. Kuroo could tell that Tsukishima was struggling to control the motion of his hips and decided to indulge him a little bit.

Moving with no pause, Kuroo shut his eyes and finally engulfed Tsukishima in the wet heat of his mouth - the sound that ripped out out of Tsukishima’s throat could only be described as filthy. Emboldened by that reaction, Kuroo slipped his lips past the head and down the shaft, still gripping the base, and then back up, pressing his tongue along the length. He dragged the tip of his tongue across the sensitive spot below the head of of Tsukishima’s cock once, and then twice as he dropped his mouth down onto the shaft again, returning to the firm tongue pressure along the underside. Tsukishima was choking out incomprehensible sounds timed to Kuroo’s movements; Kuroo repeated the motions, getting a little deeper every iteration, until his mouth met the top of his own fist holding the base of Tsukishima’s cock and he felt its head bump against the back of his throat.

Tsukishima’s hand flew up to rest on the back of Kuroo’s head as he pulled back to a shallower depth, and Kuroo opened his eyes to watch the pleasured face above him go slack when he relented a little and sucked on the head of Tsukishima’s cock. With the way his eyes were unfocused and his chest was heaving, Kuroo was pretty sure Tsukishima was nearly unzipped. He took Tsukishima to the back of his mouth again, twice, three times in succession, with suction at the top and a gentle up-and-down twist of his wrist, until Tsukishima gasped out his first coherent word since Kuroo wrapped his lips around his erection –

“Fuck —”

Kuroo tried to pull back a little farther, but Tsukishima clamped down on a fistful of Kuroo’s thick hair hard enough to immobilize his head – so Kuroo shut his eyes again and willed himself not to gag as Tsukishima’s cock pulsed in his mouth.

Cum always made Kuroo’s tongue tingle and left a horrible aftertaste for at least the first ten minutes after it ended up in his mouth (however that happened). He resigned himself to his nasty imminent future as he dutifully swallowed Tsukishima’s load, successfully avoiding any sort of choking or gagging in the process. Tsukishima started to grow soft in his mouth, so Kuroo withdrew all the way and looked back up for a quick status check.

Tsukishima looked satisfactorily fucked in his post-orgasmic haze, a little slouched there on the edge of the bed; he blinked slowly as if it was becoming difficult to keep his eyes open. Kuroo got up off the floor, rubbing at the carpet pattern now stamped onto his knees, and pulled back the blankets on the bed far enough that both he and Tsukishima could crawl underneath. It was quiet – the music had ended on its own some time ago – and a little too bright from the standing lamp by the door, but Kuroo scrapped any plans to go turn it off when Tsukishima turned to wrap an arm around his shoulders and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. Kuroo pushed past his initial surprise – Tsukishima did not look or act like a cuddler – to tuck his head under Tsukishima’s chin and snake an arm around his waist, humming contentedly.

\---

Kuroo awoke in the morning to find Tsukishima already awake and scrolling through his phone next to him in bed. The light shining in from the balcony door was still gentle – early for Kuroo, if he was honest.

But he’d have to go through an entire personality change before he let an opportunity for gross morning sex with a nude, lanky asshole go to waste. Kuroo rolled over and reached to pull Tsukishima closer.

If this was the point of no return, he might as well embrace it.

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on a date I went on in grad school where we did eat an actual hibachi frog. This is Baby's First Fic, like ever, so I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it! 
> 
> Find me at [@interstellarhitchhiker (main)](https://interstellarhitchhiker.tumblr.com) or [@hotzombiewenning (anime/etc.)](https://hotzombiewenning.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.


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